Page 136 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
“And Nash? Is he a good person?”
I considered it and realized I didn’t know. As much as I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. Not as an attempt to protect him, but because Nash’s actions always contradicted his words. I didn’t think of him as a bad person.
He wasn’t sweet words.
He was sweet actions.
The notes the agents had probably rifled through proved that.
Besides, Reed never talked about it, but I figured Nash was going through something, and everyone deserved a second chance.
It didn’t mean the sting of that night had disappeared. It didn’t mean my cheeks stopped flushing each time I thought of him. But it was a good type of flush. The way your cheeks warmed when you knew a secret that was too good to keep to yourself.
I’d taken too long to answer, and when I turned to my right, the stranger had already left. I pivoted, pausing when I heard a tree ruffling in the maze. Forcing the curiosity aside, I sprinted down the path to the house in time to catch the profile of the man’s face before he slipped inside my house through the backdoor.
The same face staring back at me on my sketchbook.
Brandon Vu.
The Present
I should have taken tonight’s starless sky as a warning.
Nothing good ever happened on them.
I swung the hotel lobby door open and glared at the sky, sifting through some secrets I could offer it.
Secret #1—I may shed a tear if I get to the soup kitchen and find it closed—then poison Chantilly for making us work so late without overtime pay.
Secret #2—I screamed Nash’s name so loud when Ben made me come last night. You can’t imagine the fear fueling my veins when I peeped my head out of the closet to make sure no one heard me.
Secret #3—I snuck a bag of pita chips and cold soda from the fridge when everyone went to lunch today and Delilah came down to grab Nash’s signature on a few papers. I hid the wrapper and empty can under the couch cushions when he came back sooner than I’d expected.
Chantilly sat on the cushion above the can, and everyone went silent because they thought she farted. I said nothing, even when red flushed her cheeks and she looked at Nash like he’d throw on a knight’s armor and save her.
Does that make me the dragon and Chantilly the princess in this story? (If it’s any consolation, she’d join a league of Snow Whites, and you know how I feel about that.)
There you have it. Are three secrets enough for you, Starless Sky? Will you spare me tonight?
“Waiting for the sky to fall, Winthrop? That would only happen if you ever decided to act normal.”
My legs jerked at Nash’s lazy drawl. I tamped their reaction as best as I could, exhaling as if I’d run a marathon in the past second. My staccato heartbeat reached a climax before falling.
“Following me is pointless.” I gave the sky another fifteen seconds to respond—a shooting star, a comet, anything—before I lowered my head and began walking. “I’m never going to accept your double portions. You may as well stop.”
I didn’t have to stare at him to know the corners of his lips curled up when my stomach protested.
Loudly.
“Hmm…” Nash’s stride matched mine. “Do you really want to walk yourself to the soup kitchen alone in the dark only to walk back after you figure out it’s closed?”
Translation: are you that stubborn?
I tipped a shoulder up in a half-assed shrug and catapulted to record-breaking speeds. “If the shoe fits, it fucking fits.”
“That’s not the saying.” Nash’s hand shot out and steadied me when a car rounded the corner too closely.
My heart punched at my chest, rendering me too useless to protest as he swapped our positions, so he walked on the street side.
